


Five by Five

by Petra



Category: DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Wendy the Werewolf Stalker, Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Halloween Costumes, Infidelity, M/M, Multi, Semi-Public Sex, Wendy the Werewolf Stalker - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-21
Updated: 2006-10-21
Packaged: 2019-03-09 20:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13489044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petra/pseuds/Petra
Summary: A random chick who's wearing stuff that pretty well matches his goofy Cherub costume, because she's pretty obviously going as Chastity, that girl from Wendy the Werewolf Stalker with the name that -- well. Doesn't fit.





	Five by Five

**Author's Note:**

> For Zee, whose fault it is.

It's a really bitchin' Halloween party -- even more so for the humans, 'cause it looks like somebody, Grace maybe, spiked the punch, but Kon's still having fun and Cassie's grinning at him, dancing with him and her hair's flying everywhere. She never dresses this great, but she's being Wendy tonight, wearing a big cross and boots with crazy heels. Anybody normal would have to be crazy to go out fighting evil in that kind of outfit, but it looks good on her.

Kon's Cherub jacket is too warm for the party, but unlike Arsenal, he'll be seriously out of costume if he starts taking stuff off, so he uses that super-coping he hasn't actually developed and sucks it up. Bart's off somewhere, Nightwing -- everybody says -- never comes to this kind of thing anymore, and Tim --

Well, Tim's busy. Gotham's probably crazier than crazy on Halloween, especially when it's the weekend. Which means he really needs to get out a little and have some fun, but nobody expects him at the party.

Least of all Kon.

Cassie kisses him when the song ends and says, "You want some more punch?"

Kon grins and says, "Sure. I'm just going to go take a spin outside, cool off a little." He tugs at the collar of his so-authentic so-overheating turtleneck. "Back in a few."

"Don't let the werewolves bite," Cassie says, and he winks and heads out the window.

There's somebody standing just outside the door like they know there's a party inside but they don't have the guts to just walk in. Or they don't have ID, or -- Kon lands a little ways away. The chances of it being somebody with a Kryptonite lollipop in New York are pretty small. "Hey, happy Halloween," he says quietly. "You okay?"

It's a -- girl, but it takes a second, heavy eyemakeup and lipstick that makes her lips look really. dirty. Really, really dirty.

This is no time to think about a random chick sucking him off. Even a random chick who's wearing stuff that pretty well matches his goofy Cherub costume, because she's pretty obviously going as Chastity, that girl from Wendy the Werewolf Stalker with the name that -- well. Doesn't fit.

She smiles and says, "Five by five."

And it's not a girl. It's Tim. Really obviously, even if he is leaning against a wall and are those falsies and that is definitely still eyeliner thick enough to get him a free ticket into the best goth club in town.

"Oh," Kon says, and he catches himself staring at the girl's -- Chastity's -- Tim's lips again. "I thought you'd be -- at home."

It really is Tim's smile under all those layers of lipstick and gloss and --

Okay, so it wasn't the right time to think about random girls blowing him, but half an hour after never is the right time to think about Tim doing it in a dark street on Halloween, just outside the Outsiders' HQ.

He'd sink to his knees and lick his lips and look up at Kon -- is he wearing mascara? it's hard to tell in the dark -- and -- and no.

Tim pushes himself off the wall just like Chastity would and comes over to Kon, talking quietly. His personal space bubble is about ten feet smaller than usual. Kon can smell his lipgloss -- something sweet, light above the smell of the city. "The real wackos start later on. I told B I had to do some, you know, team building."

Kon just stares at him for a second. Sometimes Tim smiles, sure, but -- not like that. Not ever like that, and Kon's just not thinking fast enough. He never thinks faster than Tim, but faster than molasses would be good. "Oh. Cool." He glances toward the door. "You wanna go in?"

While he's looking away, Tim grabs the lapels of his heavy coat and pulls him down a little. "I don't have time for that kind of party," he says, and he kisses Kon instead.

So the lipgloss is probably strawberry or something, and Kon's pulling him in by the tight -- leather -- pants around his narrow hips before he even vaguely starts to think.

There's such a thing as getting too damn far into character, he tells himself, and then Tim shoves his hand down Kon's pants and he tells the parts of him that think this is wild and unexpected to just shut up. They go away, muttering about how if it turns out there was a bad batch of LSD in Gotham's candy corn, they're not gonna be surprised.

Kon gets back to the way more important things like finding out that, yeah, Tim really is wearing falsies, and groaning into his mouth. Tim groans right back and grinds against him until they're both panting and Kon feels a lot less stupid about being crazy-horny when he's got company to do it with.

Tim breaks the kiss off when he gets Kon's pants open. He's got them turned so Kon's back is to the wall now, and Kon has no idea how that happened. And Tim -- there's no way anybody can walk in the pants he's wearing, let alone kneel, but Tim can do anything.

"Oh, god," Kon says. "You -- you came here -- for this -- I -- god, Tim --"

Tim licks his lips and they shine a little even in the dark. "Everybody should get a night off from being themselves. It's Halloween."

Maybe good little Tims -- good little Robins -- don't give people blowjobs, but Tims who dress up like Chastity really, really do. If Kon couldn't fly he'd fall over at the first damn lick. It's like a flame going up his dick and into his spine. Like sunlight and he's saying -- something. Something about Tim's mouth, and now he's just groaning because Tim's going down on him even more now, pulling Kon in by his ass.

And everything is going to be awkward tomorrow -- in thirty seconds -- whenever he has to look at Tim and not think about how he looks with his eyes painted dark and his lips stretched around Kon's dick, but right now, that's not enough to make him shut up.

"Fuck, Tim," he says, as quiet as he can manage to be. "I -- Jesus, I can't -- god I want you so bad, I didn't -- I didn't know, god your mouth, you're gonna kill me --"

It doesn't kill him -- not even close -- but he punches a brick into dust while he's not pulling Tim's hair out -- or is that a wig -- or -- he crunches his fingers into the dust and says, "God, I'm gonna come, Tim, god, you're killing me, I'm --" and loses it, banging his head on the wall and coming in his mouth, on his soft, thick, wet lips.

"Holy shit," he says when he can take another breath.

Tim stands up and wipes his lips -- his mouth -- on the back of his hand. "I should get back. Patrol. All that."

Kon stares at him. "I. You -- you --" He reaches for Tim, but the personal space is back with a vengeance and Tim's six feet away.

"I have work to do," he says, and it's like he's in full Robin costume. Like he doesn't even know what eyeliner's for, never mind that he's wearing enough for three people.

Kon can't fight that voice. He's never known how. "We gotta talk about this," he says, and it sounds really weak. "Cassie --"

Tim raises an eyebrow at him. "Trick or treat," he says, and shrugs, and turns away.

Kon could totally stop him and argue with him and drag him into the party, but it wouldn't automatically make anything better. The weekend's soon enough to argue about it.

Probably.

Tim's gone, anyway.

The party's inside. Cassie's inside.

Kon fixes his pants, then takes off the Cherub jacket and checks the back. He takes off, heading back for the window and trying to convince himself he isn't warmer now than he was when he left.  



End file.
